Échapper à la Nuit
by theartofsecrecy
Summary: The young Delia Anderson has been taken as a prisoner by none other than Lord Voldemort, left with little to no options if she wants to live. But will she choose to die rather than give him what he wants? formerly titled "Escape" (ABANDONED: new version coming soon.)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One.**

"Master, I apologize for leaving." The young girl fell to her knees, keeping her head bent to hide the tears pooling in her eyes. "I beg your forgiveness."

The man standing on the other side of the room starred at her with nothing but cold fury in his eyes as he remained silent. How dare she try to run away from Lord Voldemort? He should kill her on the spot.

But he didn't.

In fact, he didn't even draw his wand as he walked over to her, stopping just in front of her. He stroked his finger down her cheek, causing her to shiver, before grabbing her chin roughly and forcing her to look up at him.

"You will never try to run away from me again, Delia Anderson, or I will kill you." His voice was completely calm, the soft but dangerous tone causing the young girl's panic to rise.

"No! I will never! Please, master..."

She was cut off as his hand made contact with her skin, her cheek burning as she was sent sprawling across the floor.

"_You will not speak unless I give you permission to!_" his cold voice hissed, causing her eyes to go wide with fear as she shrank away from him.

A smirk played across his handsome features as he noticed her fear, a satisfied gleam in his grey eyes, which were rimmed with red. His gorgeous face did not match his cold heart, his charming facade never ceasing to deceive those who did not know who he was. Well, they didn't know _yet_. Soon, everyone would fear him as the young girl in front of him did.

He walked towards her again, and Delia visibly flinched as he kneeled in front of her, shrinking back until she was cornered against the wall.

"_Mon amour_, you have nothing to fear as long as you do as I say," he said silkily, his charming facade back in place as he reached forward and brushed a lock of Delia's soft, blonde hair out of her frightened, blue eyes.

She didn't say anything, only shrinking farther away from him, and he left out a sigh, simply for theatrics, before standing once again.

"Go back to your room, Delia," he said in dismissal and she immediately disappeared, to reappear on the soft cusions of her bed in the heart of the Riddle house. It was only when she was there that she allowed her tears to fall freely, soft sobs wracking her body as she buried her face in her pillows.

Delia Anderson was a pureblood witch, although her family, who had all been sorted into Ravenclaw for as long as anyone could remember, were considered blood traitors. Her mother was a Healer and her father an Auror, while her only sibling, a younger sister, was still in Hogwarts. In fact, Delia herself had only graduated three months previously. She had only been out of school for a week when she had been captured. No one really knew who Lord Voldemort was yet; there were only whispers about his presence. However, Delia knew they would all be very aware of just who he was very soon.

Delia's capture had been during one of his very first raids on a small town in Surrey, where she had been visiting a friend by the name of Jimmy Fredericks. She hadn't known to be afraid as she saw a strange mark hanging over his house, what looked to be a skull and snake casting a strange green glow, and so she had approached, curious. That had been her first mistake. Her second had been crying out as she walked inside and saw his dull, unseeing eyes starring up at the ceiling from the landing of the stairs. She had tried to run, but cloaked figures had caught up to her, although they didn't kill her. The only reason for that was because one of the men in their ranks had recognized her as a pureblood. So, instead they had taken her to their master. She had decided almost immediately that she wished they had killed her instead.

Delia curled up on her side, pulling the dark green blanket up around her body. No, Lord Voldemort had not killed her. He had bigger plans for her and her exceptionally pure blood. She chocked back a sob as she thought about it. He had made no progress yet, stubborn as she was, but the Dark Lord had been trying to seduce her for nearly three months now to produce his all-important heir, to continue the the line of Salazar Slytherin. She knew that he could force her to do anything he wanted her to with a simple flick of his wand, but as he had so eloquently put it, he wanted her to "willingly give up every part of herself to the Dark Lord." That was why he had given her such a stunning room to stay in (although she was never allowed out unless he called her) and why, she suspected, he hadn't tortured her to the brink of insanity for trying to run away. That didn't, however, stop him from placing a mark on her, branding her as his, giving him the ability to call her to him at any time, and, as was recently proved, from anywhere. It was not the dark mark he placed on his followers, which she was silently grateful for. No, it was the Slytherin crest. '_Typical_,' was what she had thought when he had first given it to her, placed purposefully on her left hip, giving him his excuse to stare at her porcelain skin whenever he pleased under the excuse of making sure it had not become infected. More tears sprang to her eyes at that thought.

'_All I want is to see my family, my sister Angeline. Is that really too much to ask?_' she thought, frustrated, as she squeezed her eyes shut. With that last conscious thought, she finally allowed herself to slip into the peaceful clutches of a dreamless sleep.

She awoke in the morning when a sharp "_pop_" of apparition filled her bedroom. She was immediately wide awake, her eyes flying open as she scrambled into a sitting position. Her eyes scanned the room only a moment before they fell on _Him _standing at the foot of her bed.

"Good morning, _mon amour_. Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice full of that false kindness that he so liked to use on her. That is, until she made him angry.

"Don't call me your _love_," she hissed at him venomously despite the fear that was forming knots in her stomach. "You know nothing of the emotion."

Instead of looking angry, amusement flashed across his face and he smirked at her, causing her temper to rise further.

"_Au contraire, mon amour_. You've no idea how very much I know about it."

His eyes were becoming darker with hunger and lust as they traveled over her body, still in her clothes from the night before and half covered by her blankets.

She bit her lip for a moment as fear and dread filled her, but quickly snapped at him, "You know about lust, not about love."

He laughed as he moved and sat on the edge of her bed, reaching out to brush her hair from her eyes. However, she instantly recoiled and an annoyed look crossed his face before it was replaced again by his emotionless mask.

"What is it about me that repulses you so much? I am attractive, powerful, what more could you want?" To anyone who just heard him say this to her, it would have seemed like he was begging her for answers, but in reality it was just another harsh, unfeeling demand for answers from her.

She scowled at him despite her mounting panic. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that you murdered one of my best friends in cold blood, or that you hold me here hostage and refuse to let me see my family!" she snapped at him again. She might be terrified of him, but that didn't stop her anger at the moment.

She gasped out in fear as he raised his hand and squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to feel his cold sting again, but instead he stroked her cheek gently. She slowly opened her eyes again, shock etched into her features.

"First of all, I did not kill your friend, the Death Eaters did. Second, it would not have to be that way if you would just give in to me, as I know you really want to." His voice was soft and compelling and she could feel him leaning closer to her as he spoke, but she was finding it incredibly hard to move.

She tried to say something, anything, in response, but for some reason, her brain was working incredibly slowly, keeping her frozen, and soon his face was mere inches from hers.

"Just give in," he whispered, and she shivered as his breath hit her lips.

He had never done something like this. He had never been this close to her. Hell, he barely even touched her. Mostly, he just tried to talk with her, to convince her to agree with his terms, but she always said no. It was the same routine every night at dinner. But this, this was very different from what she had come to expect from him.

"No," she whispered weakly, but there was no conviction behind her words, and he knew it as well as she did.

He closed the space between them, brushing his lips gently against hers, and she was unable to keep her eyes from fluttering closed. She felt him smirk as he noticed her reaction, but for some reason, she didn't care. She just wanted to feel his lips on hers again. She leaned towards him, trying to close the distance between them again, but with a laugh, he pulled away, and her eyes snapped open, horrified with what she had just done.

"Don't look so shocked with yourself, _mon amour_. We both know what you really want. All you have to do is make a simple little vow..."

"No~" she gasped out, scooting away from him on the bed while his eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. His "simple little vow" entailed her pretty much selling her body to him for his own personal use in the bedroom. She had promised herself the day he had proposed this to her that she would never give in to him, no matter what he promised to give her in return. She would continue to resist him

"I would rather die than become your whore," she hissed at him, earning her a quick slap across the face which left her sprawled out on the bed in front of him.

She gasped out in surprise, which quickly turned to fear, as she suddenly felt his weight on top of her, pinning her to the bed. In one swift movement, he leaned down and kissed her harshly, causing her to cry out and push against his chest, panic engulfing her. However, he seemed completely unaffected and simply pinned her arms above her head with one hand while the other violently ripped open her shirt. Tears began to fall down her cheeks, but he ignored them, trailing kissed down her neck as she chocked back a sob.

"No, please. Stop," she gasped out through her tears. "Please. I'll do anything else that you want. I swear. Just stop."

And just like that, he pulled away, a cruel smirk marring his handsome features. She could feel a strange kind of magic swirling around her and her eyes widened in panic. What had she just done?

"Well, this could be useful," she heard him muse to himself, although she was painfully aware of his eyes traveling over her exposed chest.

She chocked back another sob and squirmed beneath him, wanting nothing more than to be away from him, but he did not make any motion to move. Instead, he just looked down at her calmly and said, "Hold still."

A gasp of pain escaped her as she felt a shock go through her body when she did not immediately listen, and she quickly froze.

"Oh, yes. This will be _extremely_ useful," he said, the smirk on his face growing wider.

However, he didn't say or do anything more to her. He simply stood up, straightening out his robes, before heading towards the door.

"I'll see you later, _mon amour_," he called over his shoulder lazily before disappearing through the door, leaving behind a very stunned and very scared Delia Anderson.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Tom could not keep a certain Delia Anderson out of his head from the moment he stepped out of her room. How was it that she managed to resist his charm? No one before her had been able to, and that wasn't an exaggeration. When he had been in Hogwarts, girls had been throwing themselves at him, and judging on the fact that it still happened whenever he left the house, he knew he had lost none of his charm. So what was wrong with Delia?

He growled in frustration as he made his way towards the dining hall, where he would once again be alone with her. A smirk began to tug at his lips as he thought about what he was planning. Because of that little swear she had made, he could make her do anything he wanted her to.

'_Except what you really want from her_,' an annoying voice reminded him in the back of his head.

He scowled to himself, knowing that was true. If he tried to be intimate with her the magic would break because that had been the conditions under which she had sworn to do whatever he wanted.

'_Still, this will be useful. I can finally force her to put that brain of hers to work_.'

With that thought on his mind, he pushed open the doors to the dining hall, a smirk tugging at his lips. As he opened the door, she was called to him and appeared at the seat that was directly to the right of his. There was a look of shock on her face and he couldn't help but chuckle softly as he walked towards her. He watched as her expression turned to one of disgust when he took a hold of her hand, placing a kiss lightly on her skin.

"Good evening, _mon amour_," he purred, his smirk growing as he saw fear flit across her features.

Without a word, Delia sat in the seat she vacated every day at dinner. Tom contemplated her for a moment, wondering if he should punish her for sitting without his permission, but decided against it and took his seat at the head of the table.

"So, my dear Delia, I think it's about time that we talk about the work you are to do for me."

She just starred at him for a moment before saying coldly, "I'm not doing _anything_ for you."

Tom raised an eyebrow at her, amusement clear on his face.

"I would watch my tone if I was you, Ms. Anderson. But I'm sure you'll find that you'll be doing quite a bit for me.

Delia scowled at him, much to his amusement, but before she could reply to him, house elves began to appear, each accompanied with a loud "_crack_", and began to set platters of food in front of them.

As usual, Delia made no move to take any food, instead waiting for him to eat first. This was not because she respected him in any way, or because he had ordered her to, but because with every passing day, she became more and more convinced that he was going to tell the house elves to slip some kind of potion into the food.

However, today, he made no move to take any food either. Instead, his steely gaze was focused on her, his expression completely unreadable.

"Why don't you serve us both tonight, my dear."

He said it so innocently that she wouldn't have thought anything of it if she hadn't seen the look on his face. He looked almost excited and it took her a moment to realize why. When she hadn't made any motion to move after a few seconds, she felt a horrible sting shoot thought her body, much like the one from that morning. She gasped in pain, but when she still hadn't moved after another minute, she received the shock again, more painful this time. And all the while, Tom's gaze never left her.

'_She is a stubborn one_,' he thought in amusement as he watched how she was fighting against his command. '_But it's only a matter of time before she has to give in_.'

And it was only a matter of seconds before his prediction was fulfilled. She began to place food onto his plate, completely silent, and once she was finished, she served herself as well. The whole time she avoided looking at him, although there was an extremely annoyed look on her face. After she had finished, she rested her hands in her lap, still not uttering a word.

"I really don't understand why you insist on being so stubborn, my dear Delia. Things would be a lot easier for you if you were not. Now, eat."

The excited look was back in his eyes as he watched her, which caused a nervous knot to form in her stomach.

"You go first," she ground out as she felt the first shock of pain for her disobedience.

Tom just chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair and looking quite pleased with himself.

"Oh, no. I insist you try this absolutely spectacular looking meal first. The house elves used one of my own recipes. I'm sure you'll just love it."

Delia felt her panic levels rising as he spoke, trying desperately to fight off the shocks of pain, which were starting to become more frequent and more painful. But when she was finally unable to take it anymore, she picked up her fork, her hand shaking, and reluctantly took a bite of the potatoes on her plate, bracing herself for the worst.

But nothing happened.

After a few minutes of silence in which nothing happened, she finally looked up at him, a shocked expression on her face.

"You really should trust me more, _mon amour_. What exactly do you think I would gain by slipping something into your food? Unbreakable Vows don't even work when one of the participants is under the influence of a potion that could influence their judgment."

Of course, Delia already knew that. She had no idea why exactly she was so convinced he was going to slip her a potion. It just seemed like something he would do.

When she didn't say anything in response, he simply turned to his food and began eating.

As usual, she was done much earlier than him. Every day, without fail, she always ate her food as fast as possible without being too obvious about it. Of course, Tom knew what she was doing, but instead of being annoyed as he knew he would be if anyone else did this, he just found it amusing.

Just like every other day, when she was finished she looked over at him, hesitated a moment, and then asked, "May I please be excused?"

Sometimes, he did let her leave, but not today.

"No, we have things to do after I've finished eating."

An annoyed look crossed her face and he smiled sweetly at her. He had to keep from laughing out loud as he saw how uneasy this made her, and he calmly returned to his food.

When he had finally finished as well, he turned back to her, a smirk on his face as he saw her obvious discomfort. He knew how badly she wanted to leave, but there were things he wanted first.

He stood up from his chair and held out his hand to her. She made absolutely no move to take it, instead shrinking away from him, fear starting to make it's way onto her flawless features. He sighed, annoyed.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Now, stand up and take my hand, Delia," he said in the calmest voice he could muster with his rising annoyance.

She bit her lip, seeing his annoyance, but quickly did as he said, not wanting to feel the pain again. A shiver went up her spine as she took his ice cold hand and he smirked as he saw it.

"See? That was easy. If you'd only listen to me, everything could be this simple," he said, not even trying to hide the smugness in his voice that he finally had her where he wanted her. Well, _almost_ where he wanted her.

She didn't say anything, just avoiding his gaze, and so he decided to waste no more time in the dining hall. He pulled her against him, his smirk widening as he heard her gasp of surprise, and disapparated up to his room.

Much to Tom's amusement, the second their feet touched the ground again, Delia pulled away from him as if burned and then began to scan the room. He had to try hard not to laugh as he watched her begin to panic, and then her eyes landed on him again. Her eyes widened in fear and she immediately began to back away from him. He sighed, growing bored of their little game, and beaconed her towards him.

"Come here, _mon amour_," he purred at her.

She stayed where she was that is until he saw her body jerk in pain, and even then, she only came hesitantly, stopping out of his reach.

He rolled his eyes and began walking towards her. However, she squealed in fear and began backing away from him, although soon her back hit the wall and he was standing directly in front of her, his chest not an inch from hers. He placed on hand on either side of her on the wall, ensuring she could not run away from him.

"Tell me, _mon amour_. What is it that you're so afraid of?"

She whimpered in pain as her body began to be tortured once again from the magic she had unknowingly started, and finally after a few minutes of the pain, she whispered one simple word.

"_You_."

He arched an eyebrow elegantly at her, leaning in closer.

"And tell me, what exactly are you afraid is going to happen if you give in to my requests?" he whispered, smirking in satisfaction as he saw the shiver go up her spine.

She fount harder against the pain this time, squeezing her eyes shut. She cried out in pain and would have fallen to her knees had Tom not had his body pressed against hers, pinning her to the wall. They remained like this for a good five minutes, much to Tom's annoyance, and only when tears had begun to leak down her cheeks did she look up at him and reply in a scared whisper.

"I'm afraid that I'll enjoy it. And I'm afraid that you'll kill me the second your heir is born and you don't need me anymore."

Tom sighed and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"To your first fear, you should never fear pleasure," he whispered in her ear before brushing his lips against her skin. "To your second, I always reward my followers, Delia. Although, I wasn't sure if I ever wanted you to be just my follower. I think you'd be much better suited as my wife."

He felt her stiffen in shock, and the next thing he knew, she was lying unconscious in his arms.

**A/N**: So, hi there. I'm not really completely sure where I'm going with this yet. I'm kind of just writing as it comes to me. but please please please R&R! the more I'm encouraged, the faster I'll write. ^-^


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Tom sighed as he carried the unconscious form of Delia Anderson over to his bed. He had actually thought that he was making a bit of progress, and then she had gone and passed out on him.

'_Typical_,' he scoffed to himself.

He pulled back the blankets on his bed and carefully laid her down before covering her again.

'_She looked so beautiful when she's asleep. Like an angel. Calm and peaceful_.'

He froze after this thought, narrowing his eyes slightly. What had gotten into him? Ever since she had arrived here, he had been letting her get under his skin. It was unacceptable! She was just a girl, after all.

He growled in frustration and walked to the other side of the bed, sitting down and reaching for his book. However, he couldn't seem to concentrate on the words. He glanced over at her again, his eyes traveling over her light blond hair, her ivory skin, her petite frame (or what he could see of it under the blankets). There was no use denying she was absolutely gorgeous. He reached over and gently brushed a strand of her hair from her eyes, his fingers lingering on her skin.

With a scowl, he quickly withdrew his hand, picking up his book again.

'_What are you doing, Tom? You have much more important things to be doing. Worry about her when she wakes up_.'

He opened his book once again and forced himself to focus on the words, pushing all thoughts of her from his mind.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

A soft sigh of contentment left Delia's lips as she shifted slightly under the blankets, still half asleep. She curled up on her side before a slight frown formed on her forehead, although she didn't open her eyes. How had she gotten into her bed? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember falling asleep either. The last thing she remembered was…

Her eyes flew open and she was suddenly wide awake. She immediately realized she wasn't in her room as she starred at the wall in front of her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the couch that was facing the fire on the other side of the room. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned over, her eyes landing on none other than the Dark Lord himself, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, reading a book. Upon noticing her move, he closed the book and placed it on the bedside table before giving her a smile.

Delia bit her lip and slowly sat up, never taking her eyes from him.

"Oh, honestly, Delia. Don't give me that look. You passed out and I laid you in my bed. Nothing else happened," he said, a clearly amused look on his face as he took in her suspicious gaze.

She quickly looked away, feeling slightly ashamed of herself. Of course nothing happened. Why would she think it had? If he wasn't going to use the Imperius curse on her to get what he wanted, why would he take advantage of her when she was unconscious?

She sighed and leaned back against the bed frame before turning to look at him again. She suppressed a shiver as she noticed the hungry look in his eyes as his gaze traveled over her.

"What were you reading?" she finally asked in a soft voice when she was almost squirming under his gaze.

His eyes snapped up to hers for a moment before he reached behind him and picked up the book, never looking away from him. She quickly took the book, glad for a reason to look away from him. She raised an eyebrow as she read the title and looked up at him questioningly.

"_The Tales of Beedle the Bard_? Why, these are children's stories! What are you doing reading this?" she asked, the shock clear in her voice.

Tom smirked at her, taking the book back and replacing it on his bedside table.

"Some things are not as they appear, my dear. And either way, I find them interesting."

His words did nothing to appease her confusion and she cocked her head to the side as she regarded him.

"But surely you must know them already. Didn't your parents read…"

Before she could even finish the question, Tom had closed the space between them and wrapped his fingers tightly around her neck, cutting off her air supply as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"_Never_ mention my parents again. Do I make myself clear?" he growled at her, sounding completely feral.

Delia desperately tried to get air into her screaming lungs as she pulled helplessly at the hand around her neck, her eyes wide with fear.

"Y..yes," she managed to choke out, collapsing onto the bed and gasping for air when he released her.

When she had finally caught her breath, she sat up shakily and withdrew to the corner of the bed that was farthest from him. She couldn't suppress a shiver as she noticed how his eyes, which were still darkened with anger, never left her.

The silence between them stretched and Delia began to squirm under his gaze. Finally, unable to take it anymore, she spoke, her voice slightly hoarse from being choked.

"If that's all you needed, then I should be…"

"No," he cut her off sharply.

Even though he hadn't moved at all, she flinched as if he had slapped her.

He continued to just stare at her for a moment before finally looking away towards the fire behind her.

"I need you to help me in my research, Delia. You were a Ravenclaw, so this should be no problem for you. You'll have full access to my library and be able to go whenever you see fit. However," he turned his steady gaze back on her. "if you _ever_ try anything like you did two days ago with your new freedom, no one will end up very happy."

His underlying threat caused a shiver of fear to go up her spine. She knew she really had no say in the matter of helping him and sighed dejectedly.

"What exactly is it that I'm going to be researching?" she finally asked softly after a few moments of silence.

A smirk began to curl up the corners of his mouth and Delia had to suppress another shiver. Luckily, Tom didn't seem to notice.

"You, my dear, are going to help me research the Deathly Hallows."

Delia didn't say anything, just starring at him disbelievingly. When the silence stretched and she realized he wasn't joking, she raised an eyebrow at him incredulously.

"You're _joking_, right? That's nothing but a fairytale, a silly story made up to put children to sleep." She carefully avoided even saying the word 'parent.'

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"As I said, things are not always as they seem. And there is some truth to every story told."

She sighed in exasperation, but could tell that it would be useless to try and convince him that this was a waste of time. So, she instead just nodded, figuring it would at least get her out of her room.

"Oh, alright," she snapped before she could stop herself. He raised an eyebrow at her delicately and she instantly regretted snapping, but he just looked amused.

"You can leave now, if you'd like. I expect you to report to me the second you find out anything. However, if you take too long to come up with any results, I might have to _persuade_ you to look at bit harder."

She bit her lip at his insinuation and just nodded, not saying a word before she disappeared, reappearing on her own bed. She sighed and looked around the room, smiling slightly as she noticed a door that hadn't been there before, the door to the sure-to-be extensive library that was now at her leisure.

'_But I can explore later. I'm much too tired now_,' she thought to herself before settling into her bed and quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Delia sighed softly as she pushed yet another book away from her, her frustration building. It had been a little under a month since she had been given her job of researching the Deathly Hallows, and so far she had gotten no where. She knew it was only a matter of time before _He_ came to see what was taking her so long, but she was already spending almost all of her time looking for these stupid Hallows that she didn't even think existed. Sure, every once in a while she would get distracted by the huge library she was in and read something else, but that was understandable, right? She couldn't spend all of her time on one subject. That would get boring for anyone

She groaned and dropped her head onto the table, muttering an "ow" as pain shot through her head.

"You shouldn't hurt yourself like that. People might get the wrong idea."

It was all she could do not to scream as her head shot up, quickly landing on Tom, who had somehow sat next to her at the table without her noticing. He chuckled softly at her reaction.

"Did I scare you, _mon amour_?" he asked innocently, although there was a wide smirk on his face.

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks and quickly picked up a book, burying herself behind it so he wouldn't see. However, he reached over and pulled the book away, his expression now serious, making her stomach clench in fear.

"What?"

Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she looked up at him with wide eyes. He was starring at her in a way that made her feel like he was reading her mind, and she began to squirm under his intense gaze.

"It's been almost four months now, Delia," he finally said, his voice eerily calm as he continued to watch her. "Your sister will have gone back to Hogwarts now. I'm sure you'd love to find out how her fifth year is going."

Delia's eyes widened and she began to push her chair back, away from him. "Y..you better not have done anything to Angeline," she whispered, her voice holding no conviction because of the dread filling her

He laughed and the sound sent a shiver up her spine.

"Come here, _mon amour_," he purred, a smirk once again pulled at the corners of his lips.

She quickly shook her head, but then cried out in pain as a shock went through her body. How had she forgotten about that little bit of old magic she had evoked with her sweat?

"No, please," she begged him, her eyes pleading as the pain continued.

But he didn't say or do anything, and eventually she was forced to give in as the pain became unbearable. As soon as she was in arms reach, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. She gasped in surprise and then immediately began to try to pull away from him. However, he just leaned over and hissed in her ear,

"Hold still."

A shiver went up her spine as his breath touched her skin, but when she felt a shock of pain, she froze, squeezing her eyes shut instead. She bit her lip, feeling his fingers brush against her collar bone before moving up her neck and finally tucking her hair behind her ear, and turned towards him, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Please, just leave me be. I'll do anything else that you ask of me. I already do. Just leave me alone," she whispered, a few tears managing to escape down her cheeks.

He reached forward and caught on of her tears on his finger, examining it for a moment before finally looking up at her again.

"But, my dear Delia, this is the only thing I want from you. I have other people who can do whatever else I ask, but only _you_ can do _this_ for me."

He brushed his fingers against her cheek, watching as she closed her eyes under his touch.

"Please," she whispered her plea again, her voice softer than it had been before.

But he ignored her begging as usual as he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. He knew this would probably break the magic surrounding the swear she had made, but he didn't care. He had other ways of making her do what he wanted her to.

He broke the kiss, barely registering the fact that she had begun to kiss him back, and slowly kissed along her jaw line until he had reached her ear.

"Think about it, Delia," he whispered, relishing the way she shivered when his breath hit her skin. "I can give you everything you've always wanted and whatever you fancy along the way. I can pleasure you in ways you never thought possible. I can make you live forever. And all you have to do is agree to be mine."

He slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on the skin of her stomach. He could feel her hesitating, knew she was tempted. He began to kiss her neck gently, tightening his grip slightly to pull her closer.

"Say yes, Delia. I'm begging you. I _need_ you," he whispered against her skin, and had to fight a smirk as he felt her shiver once again, knowing that would be the final touch he needed before she gave in to him.

"I…" she started to say, already sounding breathless. "You're lying. I can tell."

She bit her lip and tried to pull away from him, but it was much weaker than before and he had no problem keeping her firmly in place. Her brain was moving much slower than it normally did, and she was having a much harder time than usual sorting through her thoughts. She was finding it difficult to remember why exactly it was that she was saying no to him, why she didn't just give in to his requests.

When she didn't say anything else, he captured her lips again, and there were suddenly no thoughts in her head at all besides him. The only thing she was aware of was how cold his fingers were against the skin of her stomach, and she didn't try to resist at all when he began to deepen the kiss, opening her mouth to him as she felt his tongue against her lower lip.

But Tom pulled away, instead beginning to trace kisses down her neck. She couldn't help herself. She leaned her head to the side, exposing more of her neck to him, a soft moan escaping her. Lust was clouding her senses, desire building in her and something just didn't seem right to her, but her thoughts were clouded and she couldn't sort out what was happening.

A soft gasp escaped her as she felt his teeth break skin on her neck, but instead of feeling pain, it just made her desire for him increase, and she tangled her fingers into his dark hair.

"What have you done to me?" she gasped out, a new wave of pleasure flowing through her as his tongue danced across her skin, catching any blood from the wound he had made when biting her.

She could feel him smirking against her skin and a wave of dread flooded her, followed quickly by fear. However, this only seemed to strengthen the desire building in the pit of her stomach, and she couldn't bring herself to pull away from him.

"Don't worry, _mon amour_. It is nothing that will harm you, or even alter your judgment. It is a potion of my own creation, designed to fuel any desires a person may have. It can not create something that wasn't already there, so this just proves that you do, in fact, want me."

Her eyes widened at his words and she began to squirm in his grip, trying to escape, although it wasn't nearly as forceful as it used to be as the desire continued to pulse in her.

"No, please. Let me go! I don't want this!" she cried desperately, although she was struggling less and less with each passing moment.

"Your mouth says no, and yet your body is craving my touch," he whispered in her ear, a shiver of desire making its way up her spine as his breath hit her neck.

"No," she whispered weakly, but didn't try to pull away again as he kissed her.

She could feel them disappearing, the feeling far too familiar, and immediately pulled away as they reappeared on a bed, recognizing it as his. She quickly began to shake her head, her lower lip beginning to tremble, but he ignored her obvious panic and gently pulled her shirt off over her head.

"Shh, _mon amour_. Everything will be fine. I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered softly as he unhooked her bra as well.

"No, please. Don't make me. I don't want to," she whispered as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

"Oh, yes, you do, darling," he muttered before beginning to kiss her neck.

She bit her lip as desire once again began to form in the pit of her stomach and didn't try to stop him as he pulled her bra off, tossing it away off of the bed.

"You are so perfect, _mon amour_," he whispered as his hands traveled up her body and cupped her breasts.

She could feel her breathing becoming shallow, and he must have noticed as well because he looked up at her again and smirked.

"Pleasure does not come with a price, you know, my dear," he said softly as he began to rub her nipples gently with his thumbs.

She bit her lip to hold back a moan, but her vision was beginning to gloss over. She wanted him, and the rational part of her brain was starting to go out the window as lust began to take over.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before whispering, sounding much too breathless for her own liking,

"And what is it that you want from me in return?"

She slowly opened her eyes again to find him smirking at her, a triumphant look in his eyes. She couldn't bring herself to even scowl at him in return though as he continued to massage her breasts purposely, trying to keep her head as clouded with lust as possible.

Should he try and force her to take the Vow now? Was lust's hold on her strong enough? Or should he force her to do something else for him in return for her pleasure?

"You must be my slave from now until you take the Vow. You will follow me wherever I go, do whatever I ask, and you must never question my orders, or I'll be forced to punish you like a slave," he finally said. "Deal?"

Delia frowned slightly, trying to focus enough to think about his requirements. Was it really worth it? Did she really want him that badly? Her head was screaming at her, but the desire pulsing through her body was dulling most of it.

And then she felt his warm mouth replace on of his hands on her breast, his tongue gently playing with her nipple, and she knew she couldn't say no, couldn't resist him.

"Deal," she breathed, barely feeling the magic that swirled around her, binding her agreement, as Tom pushed her back onto the bed, capturing her lips with his once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Tom had never felt so wonderfully in his whole life, although he didn't quite know why. He had barely even gotten to third base with Delia the night before, and yet he couldn't be happier, despite not being able to go all the way with her. He sighed softly as he looked down at her sleeping figure, resting peacefully in his arms, and brushed a strand of her hair from her face. She stirred slightly and he couldn't suppress a smile as she turned towards him in her sleep, moving closer to him.

It wasn't long until he felt her breathing grow uneven and he knew that she had woken up, even though she didn't really want to be awake yet.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Decided to finally join the living again, have you?" he said softly, stroking her hair gently.

When she didn't immediately pull away from him, he knew she must still be half asleep.

"No," she muttered, her voice still laced with sleep. "I'm not awake yet. I refuse to be."

She turned and buried her face in the pillows as he chuckled softly.

"It's past ten. You can't be tired. I didn't keep you up _that_ late last night."

He watched as her body grew rigid, and he knew that she was finally fully awake She turned towards him and looked at him for a moment before peaking under the covers. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were wide and she looked terrified.

"Oh, god. I was hoping that was a dream," she muttered, sounding exasperated, before she turned and buried her face in the pillow again.

He smirked and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. He was satisfied as she didn't try to pull away.

"Not quite, _mon amour_," he whispered in her ear, his smirk widening as he noticed how she still shivered when his breath hit her skin.

"Oh, no," he heard her whisper so quietly that he almost missed it.

"Oh, yes. You belong to me now, darling," he whispered in her ear before brushing her hair away and kissing her neck.

"No," she said, turning and facing him again, her eyes showing her defiance. "I don't belong to you. I didn't take the Vow."

He scowled at her and grabbed her upper arms tightly, not caring as he heard her gasp in pain. The good mood he had woken up was definitely gone now.

"It is only a matter of time before you do, my darling Delia. And until then, you still have to say and do whatever I tell you to. You _do_ belong to me now, whether you like it or not."

He let go of her arms and threw her back against the bed before standing up and pulling his robes on. He turned back to her, a strange look in his eyes.

"Maybe I should show you just how good you have it with me. Maybe then you would realize that it is in your better interest to just obey me."

Fear gripped her and she sat up in the bed, pulling the covers with her so that they still covered her chest. He walked slowly over to the bed, a cruel smirk marring his handsome features.

"Get up, my dear, and get dressed. We're taking a little field trip."

She felt her body moving, although she hadn't told it to, and gasped out in surprise.

"Wha.. where are we going?" she managed to ask, although her voice was shaking.

"I think it's about time you thanked the men who brought you here," he said, his voice kind and polite, but Delia felt dread building in her.

"No, please. Don't make me…"

"Are you questioning my order?" he cut across her, his voice low and dangerous.

Her eyes widened as she remembered the terms made the night before, and she quickly shook her head.

"Good. So hurry up. We haven't got all day."

She sighed dejectedly, and got dressed as slowly as she dared. When she had finished, he walked over to her, a smirk on his face, before he took her arm and disapparated.

As her feat touched the ground again, she immediately tried to move away from him, but he tightened his grip on her arm, keeping her in place.

"Don't you dare," he hissed in her ear, all pretenses gone.

She bit her lip, but didn't try to move again, his tight grip sending pain through her arm. It was only then that she looked around to see where they were.

The two were in a large room with nothing but a long, thin table, which dominated the space. There was a fire on one wall, but no other lights, leaving the room relatively dim.

He pulled her roughly towards the table, pushing her down into one of the chairs. He turned away from her, and she couldn't see what he was doing, but moments later, people in dark cloaks began to appear in the room. Delia shrank back in her chair, fear gripping her, but Tom either didn't notice or didn't care. Only three men arrived before Tom stepped away from her and towards them. They started to bow, but Tom waved them to their feet again offhandedly.

"This here is Delia Anderson. I'm sure you three remember her." He gestured towards her, but didn't look her way. "I need the three of you to watch her while I.. While I take care of some business." She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smirking. He walked closer to them and said something that she couldn't quite make out before disapparating, leaving her alone with the three men.

The tallest of the three lowered his hood, revealing a handsome face and light blonde hair. He walked over to her, extending a hand.

"The name's Malfoy. You'll be coming with me, Ms. Anderson," he said, his voice silky and melodious.

Delia hesitated, eyeing his hand suspiciously. She couldn't get Tom's words from her head, and there was a strange look on this Malfoy character's face. But then again, what choice did she have? She had no idea where she was, and if she didn't go with this Malfoy fellow, Tom was sure to punish her later.

She slowly stood and took his hand, soon feeling everything pressing in on her as they disapparated.

When she felt her feet touch the ground again, she stepped away from him and looked around the new room. It looked like some kind of parlor, with a couch and a few chairs around a burning fire. It was quite quaint, actually.

"Come, sit. Have some tea," Malfoy said, smiling at her.

She smiled back and walked over to the couch, sitting and accepting the tea he offered her.

It was only moments before her vision began to blur around the edges. She tried to stand up, but the room began to spin around her and then she felt hands pushing her back. She could have sworn she heard a voice that sounded almost pitying mutter,

"Stupid girl is too trusting."

And then everything went black.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The first feeling Delia registered when consciousness seeped into her brain again was cold. She could tell she was lying on the floor, which in itself was strange, but the floor was abnormally cold, like she was in a basement or…

Her eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, but it felt as if she was bound to the floor, although she could feel no physical ropes or chains. The only thing she could move was her head. She carefully took in her surroundings, although there wasn't much to see. The room looked like the dungeons from the castle, except there was absolutely no windows and only one lantern that was situated by the only door in the room. The door was large, wooden, and had bars over the small window.

Panic gripped her.

"Tom?" she called out, tentatively.

For once, she found herself hoping it _was_ Tom. He hadn't hurt her yet, so why now? If it was him, this would probably be some plan of his just to scare her a little.

"Tom!" she called again, her tone becoming desperate now.

But when the door opened a few minutes later, it was not Tom who came in.

Delia immediately recognized Malfoy by his light blonde hair.

"Good. You're awake," he drawled in a cold voice, walking over to her.

She struggled against the magic holding her, but it didn't give her any slack at all. She looked up at him, biting her lip, fear reflected in her eyes.

"Wh.. what's going on?" she demanded, although her voice was shaking with fear. "Where are we? Where's Tom?"

His eyes strayed away from hers and down her body, and it was only then that Delia realized that she was completely naked.

After a few moments of silence, with her squirming uncomfortably under his gaze, his eyes met hers again and he spoke.

"Tom is going to be gone for a while. I was told to watch you." Of course, she knew that already. She had been there when Tom had said that. "I'm going to have quite a bit of fun with you until he comes back."

Her eyes widened and she began to struggle hard against her restraints again, panic building in her. He just laughed, a cruel smirk twisting his features as he walked towards her. He dropped his robes to the floor, leaving him completely naked, before he crouched down beside her. His wand was held tightly in his hand. The hand that was not holding his wand brushed gently down her cheek, and she quickly turned away. A scowl on his face, he grabbed her chin roughly and forced her to look at him.

"You are going to do exactly as I say, or you _will_ regret it," he growled.

Delia bit her lip, fear weighing down on her like a heavy stone. She was more afraid of this man than she ever was of Tom, and she suddenly felt herself wishing she was with him instead, not caring what he might try to do with her. She remembered his words from before, the last time she had seen him, although she wasn't quite sure when that was, and she knew he hadn't been lying. She did have it good with him when compared to most of the purebloods. They were cruel and unfeeling, and all they cared about was producing an heir.

"Do you understand me, bitch?" he growled dangerously, and she quickly nodded, not wanting to anger him.

A cruel smirk once again twisted his features and he flicked his wand. The magic holding her down disappeared and she was once again able to move, although she heard a loud "_click_" as the door locked, leaving her trapped with him without a wand.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her onto her knees as he stood, causing her to cry out in pain. This only seemed to amuse him.

"God. Now, suck my cock," he growled, pressing his erection to her lips, and she was too terrified to refuse.

**A/N: ****thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! It really means a lot to me. =] Please continue to, tell me what you think of the new chapter, tell me what you'd like to see in the future. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to post up. I've been a bit busy lately, what with the premiere of the last movie and everything. But anyway, thanks so much for reading! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Delia had no idea how long she had been there. She knew he had come into her prison, her personal hell, thirteen times, but the time frame in between each visit didn't seem constant, so she couldn't judge the days based on that. He just seemed to come whenever he pleased. Each time, he'd bring her food and watch as she quickly ate it, not caring if he had put anything in it. What would it matter? What more did she have to lose? After she had finished, then he would have his way with her. In those thirteen visits, she was pretty sure he had violated her in every way possible without ever actually entering her. But it wasn't only her body he tormented. He used legilimency on her often in their little sessions, torturing her mind, and he used no shortage of the cruciatus curse either. He had abandoned using magic to bind her a while ago, and now used muggle chains to tie her to the wall by her wrists. She was silently glad for this. It offered her a lot more freedom to move.

She began to hear movement out in the hall, voices, and panic immediately threatened to overwhelm her. He was back so soon? Her body still ached from his last visit. She felt as though she'd barely gotten time to rest.

The voices were getting louder, closer. It sounded as if they were fighting. She heard a horrible scream, then a thud, and then the door was being opened. She squeezed her eyes shut as the door hit the wall with a loud "_bang_" not even bothering to look up at her captor as she curled up into a ball, awaiting the inevitable pain.

But it never came.

She heard him walking towards her, and flinched as he reached forward and brushed her hair lightly from her face.

"Delia? Open your eyes, _chérie_."

The voice was not who she expected, and she opened her eyes, shock and disbelief clear on her face. But when her eyes fell on Tom, she cried out, relief flooding her features. She flung her at him and buried her face in his chest as sobs wracked her body. She didn't care what he had tricked her into doing in the past. It seemed like nothing compared to what had happened to her at the hands of Malfoy.

His arms wrapped around her reassuringly, and with a flick of his wand the chains had vanished and she had a black robe wrapped around her, covering her body for the first time since she had gotten here.

"Hush, child. Everything's fine now. I've got you. I'm going to take you back to my house now. You'll like that, right?" he said softly, his voice consoling, reassuring.

She just nodded and clung tightly to him as he helped her to her feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting most of her weight as he helped her from the dungeons and through the massive house. Pain coursed through her body with every movement, but she forced herself not to cry out with every step, much as she wanted to. She could feel the anger radiating off of him, but instead of it frightening her, it was strangely reassuring, because she knew it wasn't aimed at her, but at the an who had done this to her.

He disapparated with her, back to the Riddle House, once they had exited the front doors, and for once she didn't immediately step away from him. In fact, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying her face in his chest.

"Thank you," he barely heard her mutter.

He was shocked for a moment, but he quickly got over it and wrapped his arms around her reassuringly again.

"I swear, I am going to kill the bastard for what he did to you," he growled, his voice dangerous.

But it didn't scare her. In fact, once again his anger reassured her. At that moment, she wasn't thinking of Lucius Malfoy as a son to the senior Malfoys, as an older brother to Abraxas Malfoy, as a fiancé to that Zabini girl she had read about in the paper. No, he was only a cruel monster who had tortured her for days on end.

"Come, Delia. I'll heal you the best I can," he muttered, his voice taking on a softness that she wasn't used to.

It was only when he led her over to the bed that she realized that she was in her room. Relief once again flooded her, and she allowed him to push her gently to the bed, obediently lying down. But as he reached for her robe, panic immediately flooded her and she shrank away from him, her eyes wide with fear.

He sighed, and a strange emotion crossed his face. Had that been concern? No, that wasn't possible. Tom Riddle most certainly didn't feel concern, let alone let it show.

…right?

"I'm sorry, _chérie_, but I need to remove it so I can see if there's any wounds on the outside, and so I can perform the spells to see how bad the internal injuries are."

Sincere concern was lacing his words and she slowly, hesitantly, allowed him to open her robes, exposing her body to him.

Anger immediately flooded his features, but when he saw her flinch, he forced his face into a calm mask. Her body was littered with angry red gashes, and he could tell that Malfoy had used a whip on her. Forcing his mind to calm enough to think, he waved his wand over her body. Her skin glowed for am moment, and when it faded her skin once again looked as flawless as it had the day she was captured, besides some bruises across her torso. Her body had also relaxed some, and so he knew that had helped some of the pain. He flicked his wand again, and winced slightly as she cried out in pain. But he knew the spell had done it's job as he heard a few light "_clicks_" as a few of her ribs moved back into place. After the initial pain, her body relaxed further and he knew that had subsided most of the pain.

He closed her robes again and sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a few strands of her hair from her forehead.

"That's all I can do, I'm afraid," he said softly. "The rest of the pain is from bruises above and below the surface, and there aren't spells for that. I performed a numbing spell though, so that should help at least until you get to sleep."

It was almost painful for him to look at her. She had a large black eyes, and there were bruises around her chin that looked horribly like they were caused from someone grabbing her face much too roughly.

She attempted a smile, but it turned out to be more of a grimace.

"Thank you," she said softly, but he just shook his head.

"Don't thank me. This is my fault. I never should have left you with him." Was that guilt on his face? "Now, get some sleep, _chérie_. You need it."

She sighed, but didn't try to argue. He stood and pulled the blankets over her, before leaving the room to allow her to sleep in peace.

It was only when he got to his room, which was actually only two doors down from hers, that he let his anger out. He had no fear of disturbing her rest because of the enchantments placed around her room that didn't let noise from the hall into her room, and he quite honestly didn't care about anyone else hearing him. He tore his entire room apart by hand, and when he was done, he repaired it all with magic, and then used his raw, angry magic to blow it all to smithereens again.

How had he possibly allowed this to happen? Hen ever should have left her with that idiot Malfoy.

'_Scare her a bit_,' he had said. '_Show her a glimpse of the worst possible scenario she could have in a relationship. But don't you dare actually fuck her. She's __**mine**_.'

Why had he said that? And why had he left her for so long?

'_Are you actually feeling guilty?_' a voice in the back of his head questioned him, and he immediately scowled.

'_Of course not. That would involve caring about her. Which I don't. I'm just frustrated that this has now set me so far back_,' he argued with himself, although he knew that wasn't true.

Based off of how she had acted in the short time they had been together, he should be thanking Malfoy. She had actually been clinging to him, relying on him, showing vulnerability he couldn't have imagined seeing in her before. This had made her think that being with him might be a good thing. Malfoy had caused some serious progress in her.

So why was he so damn angry?

'_Because you care about her_,' an annoying voice in the back of his head said.

'_I most certainly d…_'

His thoughts were cut short as the most blood-curdling scream he'd ever heard rang through his room from out in the hall. He froze, but it took only a moment to recognize it, and then he was flinging open the door and sprinting the short distance to her room.

Relief flooded him for a moment as he opened the door and saw nothing that seemed to be a threat. But then she screamed again, and he noticed how the sheets were twisted awkwardly around her body, and he could see even from where he stood in the doorway that she was covered in swear.

She was having a nightmare, and a terrible one from the look of things.

He closed the door and walked swiftly to the bed, kneeling beside her head.

"Delia?" he said softly, brushing her hair from her face before stroking her cheek. "Delia, _mon amour_, wake up. It's just a nightmare."

But that didn't seem to work at all.

He sighed and stood up, shaking her shoulders.

"Delia, wake up. You're having a nightmare. There's nothing to be scared of. No one's hurting you," he said, his voice more forceful, although it was still soothing.

Her eyes flew open, alarm clear on her features. But after a moment, her vision seemed to clear, her eyes landing on him.

And then she broke down into tears. Again.

"Shh. It's okay, _chérie_. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," he consoled her, wiping the tears from her cheeks and sitting on the edge of her bed.

After a while, the tears slowly, and then finally stopped. He wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks and then stood, but she grabbed his arm. He frowned slightly, looking down at her quizzically.

"Please, stay," she pleased, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

"Of course, _mon amour_," he said softly.

She scooted over on the bed, although not without a few winces of pain that didn't go unnoticed by him, and he laid beside her, although over the covers. She moved closer to him and laid her head on his chest, and he in turn wrapped his arms securely around her.

"Get some more rest. You need it," he whispered to her, and she allowed herself to once again be pulled into the clutches of sleep.

She didn't have another nightmare that night.

**A/N: ****aww. Is Tom going soft? I guess you'll just have to wait to find out! :] **

**But please review whether you loved it or hated it! Tell me what you want to see in future chapters. I'm curious. ^-^**

**Oh, and just so that you all know, Lucius Malfoy mentioned in the chapter is not Lucius the father of Draco. I made this one up as Abraxas (Draco's grandfather)'s older brother. So he named his son after his big brother. Isn't that cute? :33**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: oh my goodness. I'm so so sorry you guys, and I definitely wouldn't blame you all if you had totally abandoned this story, since I kind of did. I got some serious writers block and had no idea what to do next. BUT I AM BACK WITH A NEW CHAPTER. I am seriously sitting at my computer and not going to stop writing until I've finished this chapter for you guys, and hopefully a second one as well. Gahh. Thank you to everyone who reviewed though! I just read over them all again and I love you guys.**

**So, to recap: Tom Riddle has kidnapped Delia Anderson in order to try and persuade her to help him produce an heir. She is stubbornly refusing, although he tricked her into admitting she had feelings for him. They had a very romantic evening and had almost sex (didn't quite get to that stage) and he tricked her, yet again, into making a deal where she has to do whatever he says. He then arranged for Lucius Malfoy (Abraxas Malfoy's older brother, not Draco's father) to "watch" Delia while he was gone and show her how worse off she could be. However, it went farther than he expected and is now extremely angry with Malfoy, although it has seemed to work in making Delia like him more than before.**

**Chapter Seven**

It was very strange for Delia waking up in the morning. It had been a while since she had felt the warmth of a bed when she woke up, or really at all, and it felt, well, nice. The events of the past however long it had been were all too present in her mind and she had never been so grateful to be wrapped in Tom's arms.

Wait, wrapped in Tom's arms?

Her eyes snapped open and she looked up, to see Tom peacefully sleeping. Well, that was strange. She'd never seen him sleep. Honestly, she'd been under the impression that he just didn't sleep ever, which was ridiculous of course.

He looked a lot different when he was asleep. She could almost trick herself into believing that he was a sweet, young man. Normal for his age. Unfortunately, too much had happened for her to believe that, even for a second. Tom Riddle was anything but sweet. He was not nearly as angelic as he appeared. He was well on his way to becoming the Dark Lord, which was exactly why Delia had to get out.

Everything had been going so perfectly. She was getting closer to him, making him think she would give in soon, gaining his trust. She was worming her way into his life, and then, when the timing was right, she was going to figure out the secret to that stupid tattoo he had placed on her, and she was going to leave. But then that Malfoy git had come and messed it all up. She had no doubt that Tom had told him to scare her, but obviously, based on his reaction, he hadn't wanted it to go quite so far. And she had actually, dare she even think it, _missed _him. She had wanted him to come and save her. But who wouldn't have? It was much better here with Tom than it had been locked away in that dungeon, waiting for the next time Malfoy would come and torture her until she was screaming and begging him to stop. Tom never did that to her.

So, Delia was forced to admit to herself that she preferred Tom over someone. Sure, that someone was Lucius Malfoy, but it was still someone. When she had arrived, she had thought no one in the world could be worse than him, but she had been proved wrong. How she hated being wrong. But that was probably just the Ravenclaw in her.

She wasn't really sure how long she was awake, lost in her thoughts, before he began to stir. However, as soon as he began to show signs of waking, she steadied her breathing, acting as though she was still asleep. She felt his fingers brush across her cheek, and sighed softly, as though in her sleep, feeling the smirk on his lips as he kissed her forehead. She then felt him leave the bed, his weight disappearing from beside her, but didn't hear the door open, telling him she had left. She forced her breathing to remain steady, forced her eyelids not to flicker, but still, she didn't hear the door open, or even hear his footsteps on the floor.

"I know you're awake," she suddenly heard his voice whisper in her ear, and jumped despite herself. She sighed and rolled over, opening her eyes to look into Tom's.

He was standing beside the bed, looking down at him, a strange look on his face. She couldn't quite identify what emotion it was in his eyes, and before she could it was gone. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair for her forehead, and she bit her lip slightly. Now that she had moved, she realized how her body had started to ache. Of course, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been, but it was still enough to make her uncomfortable.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with the same concern he had used the day before. She still wasn't quite sure if it was genuine or not, although it sounded pretty convincing. 

"Better. Although everything still aches," she said, sighing.

He nodded slightly and pulled his wand, flicking it in a pattern she didn't quite follow and immediately her pain subsided. She sighed softly and turned onto her side, her back to him, a sure sign that she wanted him to leave. Of course, he did no such thing. Instead, he leaned over her, resting his hand on the other side of her body and looking down at her. However, he remained silent, just watching her.

She didn't say anything at first, but as the silence stretched, she started to become uncomfortable and decided to say something, since he obviously wasn't going to.

"How long?" she asked in a soft voice.

She didn't need to elaborate. He knew exactly what she was asking about.

"Four days. That makes today exactly four months," he replied in that same quiet, caring tone that she didn't quite trust.

"Four months," she muttered to herself, before turning and looking up at him again, her gaze accusatorily. "You say it so nonchalantly. 'Oh, no big deal. Today's just the four month anniversary of the day that I ruined your whole life.' Yeah, right." Her tone had become bitter and she turned away from him again when she was done, wishing he would just leave her alone.

"That's not what today is for me. Today is the four month anniversary of the day that I found the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with," he said simply.

When she didn't make any sign the she had heard him, he gently cupped her cheek and turned her head towards him. As she still avoided his gaze, he coaxed gently,

"Look at me."

She hesitated a moment before meeting his gaze and could see him searching her eyes. She could see her face reflected in his dark eyes, but some of the coldness seemed to be gone from them.

_Don't be ridiculous, Delia. He's a cold-hearted killer, and that's all he'll ever be. This is just another of his tricks,_ she scolded herself mentally, and judging by the look on his face, he had heard that thought.

He didn't say a word as he stood up, leaving the room without looking at her again.

He didn't return again that day.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

A scream once again tore Tom from his dreamless sleep. He groaned, but was soon getting out of bed and pulling his robes on. Every night this week he had woken to the sounds of Delia screaming bloody murder. Every night he had gone in and woken her up. Every night she had begged him to stay, and every night he had complied. After that first morning, he left the moment she started to show signs of waking. He didn't want to talk to her. He barely even wanted to look at her. So why didn't he just leave her to scream? Why did he bother to go and calm her down?

_Because as long as she screams, I don't sleep, _he rationalized with himself. It was what he had been telling himself every night, although he knew it wasn't quite true. If that was all it was, he could simple cast a silencing charm on her to shut her up.

But he never did.

For some reason, he couldn't bring herself to do that to her. When finally facing that truth, of course, he had a new excuse.

_I need to convince her to trust me, to obey me. Placing a silencing charm on her and leaving her to suffer will not help me to obtain that goal. _

He left his room and went to Delia, just watching her thrash around on her bed for a moment before walking in. He did his usual routine and went over, shaking her gently until she woke up. There was something different about her tonight though. He knew it from the moment she opened his eyes. She looked… accusing.

"You did this to me." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, and yet it held so much emotion in it. More than he thought he could even feel at one time.

"What are you talking about?" he asked softly, sitting on the edge of her bed and brushing her hair from her forehead. He saw her visibly flinch at his touch and pulled back with a sigh, although he didn't get up.

"If it wasn't for you, none of this would have happened. I would be at home, waiting for each letter from my sister, telling me about her life at Hogwarts. I would be in training to become a Healer. I would probably be getting ready for my marriage. But you had to come along and ruin it all!" Her voice was filled with distress like he'd never heard from her, and tears were actually stinging her eyes. He knew she must have had a dream worse than the others, and that she would probably regret saying any of this in the morning.

He could make her regret saying it now.

But he didn't.

Instead he surprised even himself with the words that came out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and he could tell by the look on her face that that was not what she had expected him to say. "There wasn't anything I could do that." He sighed and turned so that he was facing the wall beside the bed, a slightly faraway look on his face. "They captured you. I couldn't just let you go. I had two options. I could kill you, or I could force you to join me. Neither seemed like anything I wanted to do, so I created a third option. I would let you live here comfortably; you just needed to be giving me something in return. I wouldn't expect you to understand. I'm in a tricky situation at the moment. My followers fear me at the moment, but it's because of what I've proven to them. If I slip up so early in the game, it could be a dire mistake. I could lose everything. I can't afford to look soft right now." He turned and looked at her again, but she wasn't looking at him. She had turned her head away. He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head so that she was forced to look at him, leaning closer. "I am not a monster, Delia Anderson, despite what you might think. I would treat you right. I would protect you."

He could still see the tears sparkling in her eyes, but she didn't try to pull away. He didn't move, scarcely dared to breath, and it seemed as though she was holding her breath as well. He could see the confusion in her eyes and knew that she was conflicted. But he also took her not pulling away as a sign that she was actually taking to heart what he said. He held her gaze as he leaned closer to him, and noticed how her breath seemed to catch in her throat, but she still didn't turn away from him. There was still fear in her eyes, as he guessed there would always be, but there was something else there as well. He just couldn't quite identify it. He just continued to stare into her eyes, his lips inches from hers, until finally, their lips met. However, it wasn't him who had closed the distance. She had actually leaned forward and kissed him? That fact confused him, but it was soon forgotten, at least for the time being, as their lips moved together.

He pulled away a few moments later and looked down at her. There was an odd expression on her face, almost as if she was trying really hard to figure something out. He was so tempted to just take a peak into her mind, but he knew that would probably just set him back, so he decided against it. Finally, she seemed to come to a conclusion and met his gaze, a determined look in her eyes.

"Okay," she said simply.

He quirked an eyebrow, allowing a bit of confusion to show on his face.

"Okay?" he repeated questioningly, and she nodded at him.

"I've made my decision," she clarified, and at the still slightly confused look in his eyes, she elaborated. "I'll do it. I'll marry you. I'll bear your children. There's just one thing that I want."

Surprise flickered across his features for a moment before he skillfully hid it behind a smirk. "And what is it that you want, _mon amour_?" he positively purred.

"I want to see my family. I want them at the wedding."

**A/N: ohey. This is me apologizing again and saying that I love you all, kay? Especially if you're actually reading this after months of no updates on this story. I'm going to try and have a new chapter up as soon as possible! So send in your reviews and stuff, any ideas you have for the future of this fan fiction, what you like or don't like, all that jazz. ^-^**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hey guys. Those of you who have actually been following this story and everything will probably be disappointed by this, but hopefully you'll be excited too! At least a little bit. I've been reading over this story again the past couple of days and I've decided that instead of trying to continue on writing it, I'm going to rewrite it. It'll still be Delia and Tom, but improved! Hopefully you'll think so too. I'm going to try and develop their relationship a bit more to make it more believable. So, this is just a heads up for you guys to keep a look out for that if you enjoyed the beginning of this story and are looking to read more about the two of them. I'm going to try and write more than just the first chapter before I post it up though, so it might be a little while. But I love all of you guys and thank you for all of the input you've given me on this story! I hope to see you all on the new one! 3


	9. Rewrite Update

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Thank you so much for being patient with me. This is just an update to let you all know that I am still working on the rewrite for this story! I'll let you all know now that the new title is going to be _"The Complications of Hate"_ and here is a preview of the new story! I hope you guys enjoy it and that you can be patient just a little while longer. I love you all. 3

Graduation should be one of the happiest moments of a student's life. It means freedom, adventure, a time to discover yourself out in the real world. But for one now-former-Ravenclaw, those were all of the reasons that she was dreading the end of summer. For Delia Anderson, a new graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, September 1st would mark the day that she would have to face the fact that she was no longer allowed to be a carefree student, but that she would now have to face the real world, something that she dreaded more than anything. And so, even after a month had passed since the end of school, she had done absolutely nothing to guarantee herself a job at the end of the summer. Fortunately, she was not the only one who had this problem. Her best friend, a boy by the name of Jimmy Fredericks, was also putting off his future for as long as possible, and so, on this particularly sunny day in the beginning of July, that is where Delia was headed; her best friend's house, which was in the middle of Surrey.

Unfortunately, as she approached the all-too-familiar house, she saw something that would change her life forever. Well, perhaps it isn't what she saw, but the actions she took afterwards that are what caused the change, but that is besides the point, because as Delia apparated on the corner of the street, she could clearly see an ominous green cloud hanging over Jimmy's house, in the pattern of what appeared to be a skull and snake. Now, it was quite obvious that something was horribly wrong, and it became even more so as she walked closer and realized that the door had been knocked off of it's hinges and several of the windows were broken, curtains hanging out of the windows and blowing in the light breeze. Perhaps a smarter witch would have gone straight to the Ministry of Magic to report the incident, but Delia wasn't like most, and so it wasn't long before she was walking into the eerily silent house.


End file.
